


turn out the stars

by Anonymous



Category: The Great British Bake Off RPF
Genre: im literally watching it as i write, mel and sue are on a plane, wait this one also gets worse as it goes on, where was i even going with this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:41:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29077266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: in which mel and sue are like people on a plane?? and its like all these random people from the great british baking show but idk theyre like connected or sumtbh idk why mel would be listening to american music but just go with it sex y peopleinspired by this song: https://open.spotify.com/track/73IhqME9ZIlqb8gXM905hJ
Kudos: 4
Collections: Anonymous





	turn out the stars

the woman on mel’s right was watching an anime on her small tablet, and every few minutes mel peeked at her screen. there were magazines in the front pocket about 10 hot things to do in glasgow, but mel liked to roll up the window and stare down at the clouds, which weren’t lined up in one stormy lint sheet, but instead spread out haphazardly in small silver tufts that mel barely made out in the black sky. in biology she learned that this was called clumped distribution.

in the background bill evans played softly, but mel didn’t remember if it came out of her headphones or from her memory. either way the chords rolled over her as she looked down on miniscule lights flickering butterscotch and honey. every time another one flicked on, mel liked to think another person woke up, and maybe they were yawning or humming to themselves. maybe one of them was even humming bill evans.

she reached into her backpack to get a see’s candies butterscotch lollipop. 

“oh man, i love those too.” the anime watching woman said.

mel smiled. “i know, they’re so good aren’t they?” she said, digging up a second one to offer her.

keep your seatbelts on, the captain directed overhead.

mel’s fingers pressed into the thick window glass and left marks against the condensation. she learned about the three stages of matter in a fourth grade national space centre presentation. she spelled out her name in swirling letters before erasing it with her palms. the sky lightened to a graphite grey, and drawing on the plane window reminded mel of making skid marks with her shoes on a rained-on sidewalk.

the airplane was one of the bigger models with the seat pattern of two, three, and two. mel sat on the very left of her row in a viking “head of the table” way, and almost felt like a mother looking at this mismatched lineup of strangers. the plane smelled clean and fresh, and the man sitting at the very opposite end of their row might smell like that too, she thought. the younger girl sleeping two seats to her right might play guitar. 

mel felt a small, insistent connection to the people inside this plane, the people they were flying above, and the people waiting to pick her up at the international airport. in this solid plane, she was at equilibrium. mel was a small star harboring a huge solar system, and she didn’t have to know the name of each planet to take it into her gravitational pull. 

in her middle school science class, mel learned about inertia.

after a nap, she rolled up the window again. looked in the glass oval, and watched the sun begin the climb up, sweeping the sky in dandelion yellow like rust crawling up a bicycle. the clouds were pearly and sparse, and the plane was saturated with ambient chatter and faint bill evans. the city on the ground is bustling and bright, and the people are doing anything and everything possible today.


End file.
